IrreplacableThe second part
by kashkow
Summary: Chapters 9-14 of the story started in the first part please read that first and sorry for the inconvenience.


Chapter 9-

Rodney McKay just barely restrained himself from pounding on the stargate consol. Once again the gate had refused to connect to the address of the planet where Sheppard had been sent. No, not sent: exiled, abandoned, stranded, insert your devastating choice of words here. It had been a week now since they had gotten control of Atlantis again, had gotten control of _themselves_ again. Everyone was back up to speed, and inoculated against the effect of Lucius' little herbal pheromone.

It still made Rodney's stomach twist to think about what he had done when he was under the effect of the chemical. He had always prided himself on his ability to be above the ass-kissing and petty politicking. His intelligence had always made him the recipient of such things, not the person offering it, and he was deeply ashamed of the depths to which he had fallen. That the person that had paid for that fall was one of his few friends was yet another source of pain. He had dodged that particular bit of guilt by throwing himself into the effort to get Sheppard back.

They had begun dialing the gate as soon as Caldwell and his vampire Voodoo doctors had finished sucking every last bit of blood out of them and putting it through every test that existed and a few that had never existed before, which was almost three days after he had "beamed" down from the Daedalus, along with a full squad of Marines bristling with weapons and in full combat gear. Once the colonel was at least mostly sure that they were no longer affected he had agreed to turn control back over to them and had allowed the dialing to begin. It was almost anticlimactic when they put in the symbols and it did not engage. After all, why should they expect anything to work like it should, nothing else had gone right for the last five-plus months.

There had followed another two days of gate diagnostics that had brought McKay and Zelenka to the brink of a physical altercation, ending instead in what even Rodney would admit had been a childish exchange of curses in a mixture of Russian and Czech. The curses had been such that a hapless Russian lab tech had been driven to hyperventilate and she had been forced to sit down and breath into a hastily found brown paper bag before she passed out, earning Zelenka and McKay a sharp set down by Beckett who had been called to see to the woman. The two scientists had retreated to separate corners of the city to sulk and lick their figurative wounds as they continued to try to bend the gate to their will, but in the end they had to admit that there was nothing to be done here in Atlantis. Either they were dialing the wrong sequence, or the gate at the other end was out of commission for whatever reason.

They next moved on to verifying the address. Lucius, sitting miserably in one of the Wraith cells, had tried to barter his freedom for verification, but a short visit by Ronan had gotten the written symbols. They had been the same as Ronan remembered, and that they had been able to pull from the DHD. That left only a problem with the other gate. And that meant there was nothing they could do from here until whatever it was resolved itself.

Since none of them were feeling particularly patient by that point they had instantly begun trying to find out where the planet with that particular address was, and how to get there via Daedalus. The plan had been to locate the planet and then jump there using the ship, and then they would simply scan for Sheppard's subcutaneous beacon and pick him up. Of course the universe, clearly out to get McKay for his prideful ways, had snorted with laughter, and had given them the figurative finger.

When the Daedalus had jumped into the system where the planet was located they had been almost immediately fired upon by not one, not two, but three hive ships which had evidently been in the process of firing on each other until the common enemy had arrived. It had taken some fancy flying and just the smallest bit of luck to get them out of there. Then, it had taken them three days to limp back to Atlantis on half power and playing hide and seek with one of the hives that had evidently decided that instead of sticking around to pound on it's fellow Wraith they would try to follow the Daedalus home. It had taken both McKay and Hermiod almost two of those days to figure out an algorithm to be able to break through the hive's shield and drop in a nuke.

So they had ended up back where they started, and with a now relatively useless ship. The crew were working around the clock to get it back into shape, along with two borrowed Asgard who had come through the stargate to help out on the engines, much to Hermiod's displeasure. McKay wasn't all that thrilled either, since he really wanted to be up there tinkering, but it at least beat sitting here watching the gate _not_ work. At least he didn't have to worry about squabbling with Zelenka who was currently on board acting as the Asgards' errand boy and dealing with the grumpy Hermiod.

They had sent a puddle-jumper to the nearest gate to go in to take a look at what might be going on in the system, but after a twelve hour round trip, the small ship had reported that the hive ships where still in system and evidently were hunkered down to fight down to the last dart. Lorne, who had led the mission, had said that the system looked like LA at rush hour with all the darts buzzing back and forth and made the decision to not even try to approach the planet, which was right in the middle of it all.

He leaned back in the seat and stretched his back. He had been hunched over the console for the last three hours, running diagnostics and dialing the address every hour on the hour. Chuck, his fellow Canadian, had tried to engage him in idle chatter, but had been quickly and crushingly silenced with one snide comment. He would have to write that down to use on Zelenka. It looked like another sleepless night.

The only bright spot in the dismal week had been the tolerance that the city seemed to have been according them. It seemed it had recognized that they were now all working toward a common goal, that being returning John Sheppard to the city. It was a goal that the city was willing to work for it seemed. The temperature changes had disappeared as fast as they had appeared. Doors opened as easily as ever, and all the weird little bugs that had them pulling their hair out before were gone as if they had never existed. McKay had even found himself the recipient of some increased attention from the city, in the form of more access to databases that he had been trying to crack before with little success. It was as if the city had merely been playing with him before, allowing him a little bit at a time, leading him on. Now, with the need to get as much information on the possible gate malfunction, and ways to work around it, he was being inundated with information that he hadn't even known existed. He suspected that this was just a taste of what it was like for Sheppard. The almost puppy-like eagerness to please, the definitely un-machinelike devotion that the city seemed to have for the pilot, McKay was so going to find out what the city had shared with Sheppard that he had not shared in turn.

Suddenly the console lit up like a Christmas tree. One symbol after the next was flaring to life, and after the first three McKay knew that the gate that was dialing in was not one they had ever used before. And it definitely was not the one that he had been seeing the symbols for in what little sleep he had been able to get in the last week. The gate engaged, the regular swirl of the event horizon "swooshing" into place, followed microseconds later by the shield engaging per the programming that McKay had put into place himself. The alarms were sounding throughout the gate room, and the on-duty Marine team was in place almost before the gate had settled to its serene pool-like scene.

McKay silenced the alarm, and reached for his radio, but stopped as he saw Elizabeth come out of her office. He had thought she had gone to her quarters hours earlier, but evidently he wasn't the only one unable to sleep. He met her eyes and shook his head to the question that he saw there. He turned to the other console, looking at the screen to see if there was any signal being received, but there was nothing. It wasn't any of their allies. They really didn't need the Wraith to come knocking right now, or the Genii. Oh, wait; the Genii were allies this week.

"No signal." He reported. Now they had to decide what to do. There didn't seem to be any activity from the other gate. There had been no strikes against the shield, and no attempts to contact them. Had someone just dialed the "wrong number", and were reluctant to come through, or was someone there planning some sort of attack? Could they tell there was a shield and were now waiting to see if the Atlantans would become curious and drop it? There was no way to know without doing just that. Elizabeth had come to stand near the controls.

"Let's see if whoever it is will talk to us." She reached up and keyed her radio. "This is Dr. Elizabeth Weir to whoever has dialed this gate. Please be advised that there is a shield at our end that will not allow anyone to pass through without our permission. If you are receiving this transmission we would be happy to open a dialog with you, but you must understand our caution. We have your gate address. If you will disengage your gate we will send through a machine, what we call a MALP, which will allow us to see you and talk to you via video. Perhaps you are as curious as we are. We are looking for allies against the Wraith. Let's talk." She keyed the radio off. There was no reply. Lorne, who had come in during her speech, no doubt called by the on-duty team came to stand nearby. Ronan and Teyla slipped into the room moments later, both showing signs of having been sparring when the alarms went off. It seemed no one had been sleeping. It didn't make McKay feel any better.

"What now, ma'am?" Lorne asked.

"We wait." Elizabeth said. "If they heard us and are curious they should disengage the gate. If they didn't then we know that the gate will automatically shut down after 38 minutes and we send a MALP through anyways to see what's there. I would like to know who's knocking, even if it doesn't go any further than that…" She broke off as all of a sudden the lights began to flicker. They flashed once, twice, and then went out all together. McKay slid over to the other console, nearly running Chuck over as he did so. He pounded frantically on the keyboard, his eyes never leaving the screen.

He could not believe what he was seeing. There were cascading energy failures going through system after system. He tried to isolate the most important ones, but the outages were moving faster than he could implement blockades. The emergency lights started to flicker now too, and all of a sudden his computer shut down completely. He cursed and pounded on the now black console. The emergency lights gave a final surge and then flickered out completely, leaving the gate room lit only by the gate. Almost as one all of the occupants of the room looked toward the gate as the shield gave a flash of light, and disengaged. They were completely unprotected. Lorne pulled out his sidearm.

"I need a runner to get any armed personnel up here now!" He snapped at the nearest Marine. The man nodded and took off at a run, snapping on the flashlight on his P90 for light. Lorne motioned the other men forward. Ronan had come up too, his energy weapon in his hand. Lorne nodded to him and motioned him toward the consoles, setting him to protection duty evidently. "Ma'am, if you, Dr. McKay, and Chuck wouldn't mind going up to your office, I think it would be best if you were out of any possible…" He cut off as something came through the event horizon. The Marines' guns snapped up. A second third and forth figure came through after the first, moving to stand behind the first.

The figures were backlit by the gate and from the front by the flashlights on the Marines' guns, which were focused, like their aim on the bodies not the faces. All they could see were tall, slim figures. Only one of the ones in back seemed to be wearing anything like clothing, and that figure was encased from the head down in what appeared to be gray fur. The rest of the details regarding that one were hidden as the shadows fell over it. The other three appeared to be bare, and their skin was an eerie green-blue, tinted by the light of the gate. The backlight was enough to show that at least two of the three in the back had heads that were not human in configuration, and the hands held away from their bodies appeared to have only three fingers.

Silence, broken only by the slight whine of Ronan's weapon powering up, and the shuffle of various nervous feet, reigned for several seconds. Then the gate shut down with a whoosh, and only the flashlights remained, making it hard to see much of anything. The stalemate was broken when the figure in front raised its hand to show a small glowing cube. McKay recognized it immediately as being of Ancient design. That got his attention immediately.

"We would speak with those that lead this place." The voice was sexless, but in perfect English. Elizabeth started to step forward, but Lorne stepped in front of her.

"Ma'am, it would be best if you kept back. You should be able to talk from here." She nodded, though McKay could tell she wasn't pleased to have been countermanded.

"I am in command here. My name is Dr Elizabeth Weir. May I ask your name?"

"I am &" The last word was a garble of sound. Elizabeth frowned lightly.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't understand your name." She said candidly. She had found that it was never wise to mispronounce a name, especially when you didn't know the person and their culture. Some cultures held names to be very important. Offense could be given very easily.

"The translator does not seem to handle proper names well." The other replied. It turned slightly to look at the one in the fur. Elizabeth wasn't sure if it was consulting with a superior, or asking for technical help. The figure in the back reached forward and placed a hand on the cube. The color flared brighter. Elizabeth saw Rodney come to attention like a hunting dog that had scented a rabbit. The fur-clad figure murmured something that did not carry and the cube translated again.

"Call her Lighthill." Elizabeth saw McKay twitch again, and this time it was accompanied with a swear word muttered under his breath. She cast him a questioning glance, but his eyes were locked on the grey clad figure. There was a strange look in his eyes, a look that was both hopeful and afraid.

"Very well, "Lighthill" it is." Elizabeth agreed. She gestured around the room. "Are you responsible for our loss of power?"

"After a fashion." The other said. "It would be more correct to say that our ally is responsible for it. It is not meant with an evil intent. We have no designs upon your city, your planet, or your personnel. We seek discourse and aid, no more. However, as we were unsure of our welcome we had to take…precautions. Perhaps things are not as we were told they were." Elizabeth stepped forward, ignoring Lorne's hissed '_ma'am!'_ It was frustrating not being able to see clearly.

"What were you told about us, and by whom?" What she _really_ wanted to know was how they had affected the city systems through the stargate. It was a weapon that they could not afford to have in anyone's hands. If these allies that the other spoke of were hostile…But, you didn't just ask about those kinds of things outright.

"There were rumors that there was a new ruler in the city of the…Ancestors. One who was not amenable to new alliances, and that old allies were being left to fall by the wayside. Calls for aid were unanswered, calls to arms ignored." Elizabeth noticed that the other used the Pegasus Galaxy term for Ancients as if it were an unfamiliar description, it tweaked her curiosity, but she would not pursue it now. It was more important to answer the charges implicit in the rest of the statement. The fact that they had indeed left their allies to fend for themselves for the last five months made that hard to do with any semblance of confidence.

"We have had…difficulties in the last few months. We made a bad choice in a new ally and our other allies paid the price for that. We deeply regret it, and we will of course seek to aid them in any way we can, now. I assure you that we will not make the same mistake again. We take our obligations to our allies very seriously." She was not going to get into the debacle with Lucius. It was hard enough dealing with it amongst themselves; she could not discuss it with strangers. It was like an open wound that needed to heal, and she was not going to poke at it. "I am in charge here now, and we welcome new friends." The other seemed to consider for a moment. The one in the back, in the gray fur leaned forward and said something in a low tone. Lighthill nodded. She waved a three-fingered hand at the weapons pointed their way.

"We understand your caution, but perhaps we could have a more…civilized discourse without the obvious blandishment of weaponry. We are few, and you many. Our avenue of retreat is gone." Lighthill waved at the darkened gate. "We offer you no threat." Elizabeth didn't have to hear Lorne's hissed negative or see the tension ratchet up in the Marines to know that the military did not consider that a good idea. However…

"Yes, weapons can make discussions difficult. But then so does darkness. Perhaps as a gesture of good faith on both our parts, _we_ could lower our weapons and _you_ could restore our systems." She offered. Lorne was moving uncomfortably at her side, weapon at the ready. She hoped he wasn't going to be difficult about this. If it had been John…she shook the thought away. She couldn't think about him now, about how easy it had been to trust him and his instincts, about how he had trusted hers, about how she might never have that again. Crying was not something that was in the negotiators handbook, at least not the chapter that dealt with potential allies. There was another short conference among the strangers. Lighthill turned back to them.

"We are not as discommodated by the lack of light as yourselves, but we agree that it makes negotiation difficult and does not foster an atmosphere of trust. However there is a question that must be answered. The other ally that you trusted unwisely, how has he been dealt with? Is he still present here?" Elizabeth was puzzled by the other's pursuit of the issue. It seemed that there would be other concerns to be discussed, but then maybe they were trying to feel them out about how they reacted to treachery from an ally.

"The person in question has been taken into custody. He is being held in a prison cell pending disposition. We have not decided how we will deal with him, but I assure you that whatever we do it will be fair and just. We do not kill out of hand, and we try to deal fairly with everyone, even those who have not dealt fairly with us. If you are concerned about our trustworthiness, there are several of our allies who would be willing to speak on our behalf. We have tried to contact most of them in the last week since we regained control. I am sure that you will be familiar with some of them." The three-fingered hand waved again.

"We are not familiar with any of the others here in this galaxy. We are an insular people."

"Yet you say you have an ally that can affect our systems through the stargate, and you have come personally into what could be a dangerous situation to talk with us. It seems to me that you must have an important mission to take such chances. Perhaps as I suggested we could display some trust on both sides, and sit down, if not as friends, at least as possible allies in mutual need." There was another quiet discussion among the visitors, and Elizabeth took the opportunity to sidle over to where McKay sat.

"Rodney, what is it?" She asked. But his eyes were locked on the group, and he only shook his head. Before she could push for more the conference split up and the spokesperson stepped forward again.

"It is agreed. The systems of your city shall be restored, and we shall have our discussion." Lighthill said. She turned and nodded toward the one in the gray fur and it nodded back. There was a moment of silence, then all of the systems snapped back on. The lights came back on full and the consoles lit up as if they had not been down moments before. McKay spun around and began tapping commands into the keyboard, scanning through the systems. He spun back around after a moment and nodded to Elizabeth.

"Everything is back up. It's like nothing had happened, no indication of what caused it, just a lack of service, so to speak." He looked toward the strangers. And a strange smile crossed his face. "Almost like a light switch was just flicked on and off." Elizabeth frowned, not understanding.

"Rodney, I don't understand. What…"

"I always said that all you wanted me for was to be a light switch." The California drawl was both strange and so very familiar, and as Elizabeth spun around she heard several gasps from around the room so she knew she wasn't the only one surprised by it.

The lights now revealed the strange group fully to the Lanteans. Three of the four were obviously not human. They were tall slim and very definitely green. Their skin appeared to be like that of a frog, and their features and eyes were amphibious. But as strange as having three non-human beings standing in their gateroom was, it was not at those three that everyone was looking. Instead they were all looking at the tall figure clad in the gray fur. As everyone gaped in surprise, one very human looking hand rose and swept the hood back to reveal a head of shaggy black hair, with cowlicks poking up wildly and long bangs hanging into shadowed hazel eyes. After being gone almost six months, John Sheppard stood before them. McKay was up and out of his chair before anyone else could move. Shock held the rest still as they took in the sight of the man they had been searching for the last week.

"I knew something was going on when you said the name Lighthill, expert in fluid dynamics right, out of Trinity College at Cambridge? It seemed a little coincidental. Well, that and the fact that the city turned itself off." McKay said as he came to stand in front of Sheppard. The two men stared at each other for a long moment, and everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath as if waiting to see how Sheppard would react. Whatever McKay saw in Sheppard's eyes, it was enough for him to offer his hand. Those in the room that knew him were shocked again, the physicist didn't shake hands, and he definitely wasn't the touchy-feely type. This was a real measure of the man's concern for his friend. "I'm sorry, about all of it. You know that right? Lucius was an ass…and so was I."

"_Leave it to Rodney to just throw it out there."_ Elizabeth thought. No beating around the bush for the scientist. His bluntness had gotten them into a great deal of trouble in the past, but John Sheppard had always seemed to appreciate that bluntness, she hoped that hadn't changed. She tried to read Sheppard's face, but if anything the mask that had been so hard for her to penetrate in the beginning had reasserted itself. She realized suddenly that it wasn't that she had been able to learn to read him; it was that he had allowed her to do so. Now it was like in the beginning. She only saw what he wanted them to see. Slowly the colonel's right hand rose and met McKay's in a quick shake. The two men's eyes never wavered, but the handshake seemed to be shorter than one would have expected, and was broken off rather awkwardly. Though given the reticence of the two men involved, perhaps not.

"Yeah well, funny thing about the name. Kinda a long story there. As to the rest…." He stopped and looked around, meeting the eyes of everyone in turn. The hazel depths were still shuttered, giving away nothing. "Guess that's over now too." He seemed to shake himself and he looked over his shoulder at his strange companions. "Met some new friends back on Elba…err the planet. They have a few problems that I think you…uh we can help them with. Seems that they are the result of a little gene manipulation project that the Ancients were running on that planet. I call them the Gungan. Their name for themselves doesn't translate, just like their proper names, and it hurts your throat to try to say it right. The translation cube does a pretty fair job on the rest of their language though." He motioned to the one called Lighthill, who stepped forward.

"This is Lighthill. She's on the ruling council. There's kind of an argument among their people about what should be done about their problems, and she and several others decided that they should ask for help before it was too late. They don't have a lot of reason to trust humans. I told them that you…we were different. They helped me get back, and I told them I would put in a good word for them, for what it was worth. All they ask, all _I_ ask, is that you hear them out and do what you can. No promises have been made."

Rodney was sure that he was not the only one in the room who had picked up on the disassociation in that little speech. He had felt something in his chest loosen when Sheppard had reached out for his hand, but it tightened again when he listened to the man talk. It was like Sheppard expected them to reject him, that he no longer counted himself among their numbers. It suddenly crashed down on McKay how very lonely it must have been for Sheppard on that other planet. He had not really considered that before. As much as Sheppard was a lone wolf in many things, he was still gregarious and friendly to almost everyone, as if he genuinely liked people. It was a quality that McKay often envied in his friend. To McKay six months on his own would have been no big deal. As long as his basic needs were met: Coffee, chocolate, regular meals, a computer, he could do without the interaction with others. It would be a time to complete that work that he was always wanting to do, to work out a few theories with out interruptions, to really delve into that unified theory calculation that was hovering just out of reach. Or so he had thought up until now. Now he considered what it must have really been like.

No other humans. No way to contact anyone. No hope, or at least little hope, of anyone ever coming for him. It must have been…hell. McKay felt a little queasy, and when his eyes met Sheppard's once again, he knew that Sheppard had read him like a book as he saw a flash of pain in the hazel eyes that had so far been pretty much expressionless. "John…" he started to say something, he wasn't sure what, but Sheppard seemed to have other ideas. He spun away toward Elizabeth.

"You said something about sitting down and talking. That sounds like a great idea. You might want to crank up the heat in the conference room a little, these folks like things a little warmer than the normal setting here. They can take the cold, but after a while it makes them kind of sleepy if they don't keep moving around." He said to her, starting to push the amphibians toward the conference room before she could even speak. Unlike McKay she was not daunted by his evasion however.

"John, it's so good to see you. I'm sure that your…friends would understand if we took a few moments to talk. We've been trying to dial into the gate on…" she realized that she didn't know what the name of the planet was. She had heard, and understood, Sheppard's reference to "Elba", and she did not want to reinforce his idea of exile. She settled on the generic. "…the planet. I'm sure that everyone would like to see you, talk to you. Perhaps Carson needs to look you over. After all it has been a long time." She saw a flash of something in his eyes before it was quickly hidden away. However she knew what it was when he spoke. He took a step closer to her, and his voice was low and meant for her ears only.

"_Yes_, I am aware that it has been a long time. I am aware of every _moment_ of how long it has been. You would be surprised how time _doesn't_ fly when you are _not_ having fun. Don't mistake the fact that I am here as the prodigal son returns or something like that. I am here because these people need help, and while it burns my ass that I could be so easily discarded by people that I thought were my friends, _their_ problem is a little more serious. I do not want or need to be 'looked over'. I am fine. Now, can we get to what we came here for, or do we have to keep talking about this?"

It was only due to her years of training in negotiations that Elizabeth was able to keep from stepping back from the anger in his voice. As it was she was forced to blink rapidly to keep the tears that sprang to her eyes from falling. She knew that he saw it, he was too perceptive not to, and she felt some small satisfaction in seeing a bit of shame darken his eyes. Evidently he wasn't as closed off as he would have her think. It would do no good to face him with it now however. Stubborn was something John Sheppard did very well. She nodded and waved a hand toward the conference room. Maybe it would be best if they showed him that they were willing to help, and that they wanted him back.

Chapter 10-

Sheppard knew that he was being an ass about this. But damn it, he thought he had a bit of a right to it. He was the one that had spent six months- and what was up with that amount of time anyway- living alone on a planet that for all intents and purposes was going to be his final resting place. The fact that the Gungan had decided that they really wanted his help, and that fact had them doing what they had never intended to do, was beside the point.

The anger had started to build while he and Lighthill were working out the plan once she had revealed the control crystal. It turned out that the story about the crystal being tossed off the cliffs was a rumor started by the council to make sure that no one tried to repair the gate. The crystal was locked up in a place only council members could access, and had been virtually forgotten until Lighthill and her allies had started searching for some way to save themselves. But just having the crystal had done nothing for them, without the knowledge of what to do with it, and where to go once they had figured it out. Sheppard's rescue of Kermit had caused quite the stir among their people. The council had decided to keep the specifics from the general populace, saying only that Kermit had been lost for a time on the island, but had found it's way home after surviving the storm. But the council all knew, and it had lit a fire under Lighthill and her friends.

They had understood the significance of Sheppard's use of the facility. They had believed him to be if not an Ancient, at least someone who could use their technology. They had hoped for the former, but were happy enough with the latter. When the translator had worked for them, they knew that Sheppard was their man, so to speak. They were too desperate to wait, to be cautious. They needed help now. At the end of the six-month winter would be the spring breeding season. If the hatcheries were not repaired, there would be no next generation, and none after that. Panic would set in among the people, and there was no telling what would result. They had no time to waste. He was their only chance.

But as they had discussed plans, Sheppard had found himself almost reluctant to go back, even though it had been his focus for the last five plus months. He fully expected that Lucius was now in control of the city, if not more, and that meant dealing with the pompous idiot. It was highly unlikely that the Gungan would need to worry about the effects of the pheromones since their systems were completely different. Sheppard had described the situation as he last knew it to the Gungan, and Lighthill had shaken her head in amazement.

"Such drama in the city of the Creators. I cannot help but feel they would be displeased to have such a one in control of their legacy." She looked thoughtful "Perhaps we can find a way to return your people to control in some way. As the true descendants of the Creators it is your right. If indeed they are displeased with us perhaps they will view this action with approbation."

"Well, I wouldn't count on them being all that…appreciative. The few Ancients we've ran into out there haven't been really interested in what's going on with their descendants, or much of anything else on the physical plane." Of course that statement had meant that he had to explain ascension to the Gungan, a concept that they viewed with some disdain. They seemed to be of an opinion with Sheppard, who had never seen the excitement in the whole pure energy, noninvolvement, thing.

He had told them about the gate shield, and that had been a matter of some consternation, they had little knowledge of the stargate to begin with, and the idea that a shield could be installed had not been considered. When he told them about orbital gates, complete with explanation regarding space and its danger to breathing things, Lighthill had paled, at least as much as someone who was green could pale. Michigan had said a word that had Kermit's figurative ears perking up, and which Sheppard had mentally repeated to himself. One never knew when you needed a swear word that no one else could recognize. It was tradition after all to learn all the bad words in a language first anyway, at least in his experience.

"It was our plan to simply randomly dial the Creator's doorway until it formed an opening. We gave no thought to what might be at the other end. We…assumed that it would lead us to the home of the Creators. That we could have been smashed against this shield, or lost in the space above…it is humbling. Perhaps we are not as smart as we believed." Sheppard looked over at the correction to the formula on the wall and considered how she had corrected it with only a few moments' contemplation, an act all the more impressive because of the difference in base numbers.

"I think it is more appropriate to say that you are ignorant of things with which you have not dealt. You've never been to space, never been through the gate, the doorway. On the other hand I have a feeling that you understand fluid dynamics in a way that only someone who grew up in the environment that you did can understand them. We have a lot to teach other, and if we can pull this off…well, I can't make promises for Atlantis, but I'll try to help you all I can."

"You have already helped us, Daywalker. Even if those in the City of the Creators will not aid us, you have opened our eyes to the vastness of the galaxy, and the legacy of the Creators. Even those among us who advocated doing nothing will see that this is the right thing to do."

"You don't think that they'll be kind of …put out that I've kind of taken the shine off the Creators?" he had asked. He didn't want to be burned, or whatever the Gungan equivalent was, as a heretic.

"If this works, we will present it to them as a fact that they cannot dispute. If it does not…" she did not have to mention that their race would probably be too busy dying out to be offended by new outlooks on their 'Creators'. "But this shield, how are we to defeat this? If they have sent you here with no intent on letting you return, you are a danger to this man. Why would he even allow you to speak to any of your friends?"

"I don't know that they are so much my friends, but even if they are under Lucius' control they are basically good people, people who understand Ancient technology. If I can get them to listen, I think they will want to help. If we can come up with a way that it benefits Lucius that will probably make it best. Self-interest is his middle name. As to the shield…" He blew out a heavy breath and closed his eyes. Even through his closed lids he could see the lights of the room flare as he opened his mind to the facility.

It had been almost a month after they had first stepped through the gate on Atlantis that he had done it there. It had been a nasty, depressing, damn scary month. People were dead, some of them in a manner that he had never even considered in the worst of his nightmares. He had killed his commanding officer and was now responsible for the entire expedition. He had met enemies that he might never defeat and made friends, or at least thought he had, that he would never forget. He was tired as hell; beat down to a pile of raw nerves and general cussedness. He had gone back to his quarters one night, or maybe it was actually morning again by the time he had stumbled into his darkened room.

He had gone far enough in that the door closed behind him, and then just stood there, in the dark, staring at nothing. There was so much going through his head that he wasn't even sure that he would be able to sleep even if he could find the energy to make it to his bed. It had all of a sudden become overwhelming and he fell to his knees, panting like he had run a marathon. Soon even that was too much and he curled up on his side on the floor and shoved his knuckles in his mouth to keep the scream he could feel building in his throat from coming out. He might be whimpering like a child but he didn't want anyone seeing him this way.

He was never sure how long he had lay there, thoughts swirling and turning in on themselves. He was unconsciously rocking himself as if seeking comfort but had little hope of any being forthcoming. Who could he turn to here? Who could he let see him like this? He had to be the in-control leader, the tough ass commanding officer, the steady advisor, the steadfast friend. He couldn't let anyone see him falling apart. He had to suck it up. It wasn't as if he hadn't done it before. At his mother's funeral his father had told him just that.

"Suck it up, John. You have to be strong for your brother. Sheppard men don't cry." He had sucked it up then, and he would suck it up now. He just needed a few moments, away from condemning eyes. He could taste blood in his mouth and knew that he had bitten his knuckles, but he would worry about that later. Just another minor injury, no one would even notice.

He had been trying to focus on slowing his breathing when he had felt the first touch. Not a physical touch however. The best way he could describe it was a mental caress. A sense of warmth slowly stole over him, the mental equivalent of a flannel blanket being pulled over him and tucked around him. The floor beneath him seemed to warm as well. He could almost feel the hand carding through his hair, and he heard what could only be a soft lullaby seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. He had slowly relaxed, finding himself able to remove his fist from his mouth. He had relaxed into it, not understanding, but so desperate for comfort that he could not turn away now that it was offered.

He had woken six hours later, rested and relaxed. The floor had still been gently radiating heat, and he could still feel that sensation of being wrapped in warmth. He had risen to his feet, feeling strangely pain free for having slept curled up on the floor. He had showered and started his day with a better outlook on their situation.

It was soon after that he had had found his connection with the city deepening. Doors and lights reacted quicker. When they went exploring there were no doors locked against him, even ones that would not open to other teams. Everyone else simply ascribed it to his stronger gene. He never said anything about the way rooms adjusted themselves to the exact temperature he enjoyed. How his room had suddenly gained three new drawers set into the wall, and the windows adjusted themselves to catch the afternoon breeze after he made a comment one day about how good they felt.

The biggest thing he didn't mention was the fact that he had found out he could turn off systems. Not just sections, not just rooms, whole systems. It had happened when he was out with one of the other exploration teams. McKay had been down with the flu, Teyla had been dealing with some issue with her people, and Ronan, new to the city, had been beating up Marines in the gym. One of the team had fallen into an exposed electrical conduit. The energy had surged through him, as Sheppard had yelled into his radio for the control room to shut off the power. Almost immediately the power to the room went out.

It was only later, after they had performed CPR and then gotten the unfortunate man to the infirmary that Sheppard found out that the control room had not turned off the power. In fact they couldn't even turn it back on. And it was the whole section, not just the room. There was a lot of speculation regarding safety protocols and some sort of AI version of a GFIC to protect a human life, but in the end they could not find anything that indicated either system existed. Zalenka had been on the verge of turfing McKay out of his sick bed to look at it, an indication of the depth of the puzzlement, but had decided on one more examination of the immediate area to see if there was some sort of local 'circuit breaker'. Sheppard had gone along.

Once they had got there Zalenka had crawled over the entire room inch by inch and found nothing. He was practically pulling his hair out as Sheppard leaned casually against the wall, trying to hide his smile. He knew that it was important to get the system back on line, but it wouldn't be earth shattering if it didn't come back until McKay could turn it on by sheer force of will if necessary, at least not to him. Zalenka on the other hand…

He suddenly had a flash of McKay, who no doubt _would_ be able to get it working, lording this all over poor Zalenka who had done his best. Sheppard had spent a better part of his childhood being compared to his younger brother, and coming out badly in the comparison, at least as far as his father was concerned. It sucked. Sheppard wished that the power would come back on just so that one person would not have to feel like he had. Almost before he completed the thought, the power surged back on. Zalenka, who had been standing in the middle of the room cursing in Czech, stopped and hollered into his radio at the control room. They said they hadn't done it, and if he hadn't done it, who had?

There had followed another bit of speculation about automatic circuit breakers and timed-release codes, etc, but Sheppard knew what it had been. The city had shut down the area because he had wanted it done, and had turned it back on for the same reason. He had done a few experiments, in remote and controlled circumstances, and had confirmed it. The city would allow him to control almost any system. Even the main controls were at his command. He had once spent an entire day running McKay and his team around the city chasing an intermittent fault in the shields. It was petty, a result of a particularly nasty practical joke war started by the scientists aimed at the Marines, but it had showed him the amount of control he could have. He had simply never used it again.

Now, it seemed that talent was going to come in handy. Shaking off the memories he opened his eyes and looked around the room with a smile. Four consoles were now jutting out from the walls and two screens had dropped from the ceiling, the usual cascade of Ancient script running across them. He had put them all away when he had set up inside the facility. The walls had taken on a new color and the large window had gone opaque. The Gungan were staring around in amazement. He smiled down into Kermit's awed eyes and then up at Lighthill.

"I have what you might call a knack with Ancient technology in another way…"

So the plan had formed. Only four of them would go. No need to make it look like an invasion. He knew how well trained the Marines were, and even if Lucius was in control that would not have changed. Lighthill decided that she, using the translation device, would be the one to speak first, it was after all for them that they were doing this. Sheppard would use his coat/cape and hood to hide himself until it was determined who was in charge and how they would be met. Michigan had been forced to send Kermit home with one of the guards since the child had practically demanded to be allowed to go and it was feared he would try to follow. Impulse control was evidently a long-term problem for the boy. Sheppard could relate.

The plan had worked like a charm. They had dialed in and Sheppard had moved as close to the gate as he could without actually entering the event horizon, and _thought_ at the city. It had only been a few moments before he had gotten that surge of warmth that he had come to associate with the contact. The city knew he was there. He projected what he wanted in as clear and concise a manner as he could. He clearly visualized each step and when he felt a surge of what he had come to recognize as anticipation from the city he knew it was done. It had either worked, or he was completely delusional and the whole thing was a figment of his imagination and they were going to go splat on the shield like a bunch of bugs. He was fervently hoping for the former.

It had worked out almost exactly as planned, and no one was a surprised as he. It had been a shock to find Elizabeth and McKay in the control room at what had to be the early part of the morning. He had intentionally waited until the late night in the hopes that things would be a bit less…intense at the beginning, but his luck was holding, still rotten.

They had made it through the introductions, and the revelations, and he had found himself fighting the resentment almost as soon as they had realized who he was. They hadn't exactly fallen all over him in joy, but then if they were telling the truth Lucius wasn't in control anymore, something worth celebrating in any event. He thought they might be in a little shock about him being there, and it was confirmed when he had shook McKay's hand and when he had spoken with Elizabeth. Both had looked at him with wide eyes, eyes with more than a hint of shame.

He tried to be hard, after all he was the injured party here, but seeing the uncertainty in McKay's eyes, and the tears in Elizabeth's was almost his undoing. He fell back on doing what had to be done, and ignoring his own feelings. After all it had worked for most of the last forty years, why not now?

He indicated that Lighthill and the others should follow Elizabeth as she headed toward the large conference room. The Gungan all stopped in their tracks as the multiple doors swung open revealing the room and then almost as one turned to look at Sheppard. He shrugged.

"Told you what it was like. Just go with it and I'll answer your questions later, or maybe someone who knows more about it will be able to." He said to them, seeing Elizabeth and McKay looking curiously at them. He knew that he would have some explaining to do if he stayed here…Now that was a thought he hadn't considered, if he were going to stay here or if he was going to go back to Earth.

Before his little forced vacation he would have said there was no way that he would go back to Earth short of a direct order or in a box, the latter being far more likely as the brass seemed to like him as far away as possible. Now that he thought about it there was every possibility that he would not be allowed a transfer, not even to the SGC. That damn gene, not to mention his rather adversarial relationship with his superiors, would probably see to that. That meant if he decided to go back he would have to resign. Great, Lucius and his little pheromones were still kicking his ass and he wasn't even in charge any more.

They settled around the table, the Gungan on one side, the humans on the other. Sheppard, not feeling comfortable with either camp really, decided on the foot of the table. Lighthill placed the translation device in the middle of the table and glanced at Sheppard. They had done a little experimentation, and had found that if he wanted it to the translator could act like a speaker so that a group of people could use it instead of just one person. He thought at it, and felt the answering twitch in his brain that meant that it was turned on. He nodded to Lighthill.

The leader of the Gungan plunged into the history of their people, with Sheppard filling in the occasional point of interest when the translator failed. He would have suggested a white board be rolled in for any impromptu drawing needs, but decided against it. He had done his part, and he was tired. The room was warm now, and he shrugged out of his squirrel-thing cloak and leaned back in his chair, eyes falling to half-mast as he relaxed. He could feel Atlantis singing in his head; so happy to have him back it was almost embarrassing. He didn't even notice when he fell asleep.

Chapter 12-

McKay was fascinated by the problem that was presented by the amphibian people. He just could not think of them as Gungan, the amphibious people of Naboo. The second trilogy was just so not up to the standards of the first one, despite the special effects improvements, and he refused to dignify it by spreading its influence across a second galaxy. And anyway, he was IN a galaxy far, far away, so put that in your pipe and smoke it George Lucus. In any event he was sure that they could do something to help these people. He had yet to meet the ancient technology that he could not make work in one manner or another, and he was willing to try with their hatcheries. It made him a little nervous that it would mean being submerged in one of the puddlejumers, not his favorite position, even after the successful journey to the drilling platform. All it took was one shield failure…

He shook off that cheery thought and looked toward where Sheppard was sitting. The colonel had clarified a few things in the beginning and then had gone quiet, a state not natural to the usually talkative man. Just another in a series of what McKay was beginning to suspect were numerous changes. He had noticed when Sheppard had unwound enough to push off the fur cloak. His fatigue shirt was a pale gray and seemed to have a few holes that had been patched. With the cloak gone he could see that Sheppard was wearing a pair of what appeared to be rough leather pants stitched together by hand. The boots appeared to be the same. It made McKay's stomach twist to think that Sheppard had been in such straights that he had to make his own clothing rather than freeze. Couldn't they have sent a coat along with the man? Of course it would have been best if they hadn't sent him anywhere at all coat or no.

Now he saw that Sheppard had fallen asleep, slumped in the chair and chin against his chest. The dark wild hair was even more so now as it was almost three inches longer than Sheppard's usual disarray. The normally tanned face was pale, and McKay was pretty sure that the slim frame was even slimmer than before, though the firm handshake he had gotten earlier had suggested that the muscle was still there. He suspected that having to feed yourself off the land was not all beer and skittles. He liked to think that he had become something of an expert on reading John Sheppard over the years they had spent together, not that he would ever solve the complete mystery that lurked in that convoluted and surprisingly astute brain, but now there was a definite chasm there. As he looked at Sheppard he wondered if the man who had become his best friend would allow him to bridge that gulf again.

As if he had felt McKay's eyes on him Sheppard jolted awake, pulling himself up in the chair and blinking around. Rodney watched as the shutters that he had first seen earlier came back down over the hazel eyes. Evidently he wasn't the only one who had noticed Sheppard's return to consciousness as the leader of the amphibians, Lighthill, turned to look at him as well.

"You slept well, Daywalker?" she asked.

"_Jeesh_," McKay thought with a mental snort, "_He even gets the ones from another species_." That hadn't changed. Sheppard stretched and smiled at the female. It was a genuine smile of friendship, and McKay wished that it were aimed at him once more.

"Didn't get much sleep last night. Didn't think I had much to add to the proceedings anyway. What's the verdict?" Sheppard asked and McKay frowned at the continued disassociation. If Sheppard didn't feel like he was home, like his input meant something to them, then what was to keep him here? Would he want to go back with the amphibians, or back to Earth? What would they do without him? Though he would never say it out loud McKay was convinced that the only reason he wasn't dead or the prisoner of some primitive group like the Genii was the man sitting at the foot of the table. Sheppard for all his silly TV references, his juvenile hobbies, his love of anything that went fast, his ridiculous hair, was a survivor, and for some reason he had decided that the rest of them were going to survive too. McKay was incredibly grateful for that quirk.

"We have come to an agreement regarding the hatcheries. The mechanic," Mckay tried not to scowl at the designation the cube had assigned him evidently, "and a team of his people will come to look at the machines of the hatcheries and see what can be done. All that remains to be worked out is the timeline."

"It would seem that your need is urgent and Dr McKay is available now so I see no reason that we can not begin immediately. Rodney, how quickly can you get your team together?" Elizabeth said with a glance at Sheppard.

"Well the team is easy enough, the harder part is getting together some parts that I believe we may need and then finding a pilot that has some experience using the puddlejumpers underwater. I am not getting stuck with some short-timer who can't tell the difference between air and water." McKay expected Sheppard to volunteer. He would have in the past, but now there was silence. He could tell that Elizabeth had been waiting for the same thing. "Uh…give me a few hours to go over our supply lists and we should be good to go."

"Yes, well why don't we say that we will go as soon as possible. We understand your urgency." Elizabeth said with a sideways glance at Sheppard. "You are welcome to remain here until we are ready to go if you wish." Lighthill made the motion with her hand that Sheppard had explained meant "no".

"It would be time better spent if we returned to our planet and explained to a select number of our people what is about to happen. It will be difficult for some to believe that you are there to help, and not finish what was started so long ago."

"Is there going to be a problem with your people?" Elizabeth asked. She wasn't happy about sending people into a possibly unstable situation. Perhaps they would need to send a larger protection detail than she had first thought. She glanced again at Sheppard who she would have expected to suggest that. She didn't know what it meant that he hadn't, but it did not seem good. As much as she could empathize with these people, and as much as she wanted to help, she was feeling more and more like getting them back to their planet so that they could deal with this thing that had put the distance in John Sheppard's eyes and heart.

"There will be some resistance, however since the general population does not know of the problems with the last of the hatcheries, and since there are few authorized to be in that area there will be limited danger to your people. If necessary my compatriots and I will stand between you and them. This is the right thing to do, and we are prepared to offer our lives to see that our species can continue." Lighthill rose to her feet and looked at Sheppard.

"Do you remain here, Daywalker?" She said plainly. Obviously she had picked up on the tension between them and was offering Sheppard an out. Elizabeth held her breath as a long moment passed.

"No, I need to stay here. I'll try to come along with the team when they come though. Got a few things that I think Kermit…uh the child would like. I can bring them and pack up my place at the same time. You might be able to use it now that it's active." Elizabeth heard McKay exhale at the same time she did. Evidently he had been holding his breath, too. Sheppard was staying with them. At least he was for now.

The Gungan party rose with her and they were soon back in the gateroom. A tentative contact time was established and they were given a radio to use. Lighthill reached out and gently patted Sheppard on his shoulder and spoke to him quietly. The translator had been turned back to its privacy mode so the others could not understand what she said. The colonel nodded though and gave her a small smile. He patted her back and waved at the one he had identified as Michigan J.

"Tell Kermit I'll see him later. I won't forget him." He said to the male, who nodded. Moments later they were gone and the gate disengaged. Sheppard looked around.

"Well…who knew this would be so awkward." He finally said. Lorne, who had stayed in the control room, laughed and turned it into a cough when McKay glared at him. Ronan and Teyla were sitting on the steps, waiting. Carson, evidently alerted to Sheppard's return, had joined them there at some time while they had been talking with the Gungan. Sheppard gave Lorne a small smile then turned to Elizabeth. "So, Lucius is locked up. Guess that means everyone is back to normal, or what passes for it here?"

Elizabeth smiled at the small joke and looked around at everyone. This probably was not the best place to do this. A sunbeam through the stained glass of the wall behind the stargate reminded her that it was now morning, and coffee was definitely sounding like a good idea.

"Why don't we all go down to the mess hall? They should be serving breakfast soon." She suggested to Sheppard. He nodded.

"Never thought I'd be looking forward to the hash." He said and headed out the door. The rest exchanged guilty looks at the reminder of what had happened and then followed him out.

Chapter 13-

Sheppard knew he was eating too fast. If he had done this a kid his father would have sent him away from the table with a reminder that manners were important, but no one was saying a word now. Everyone was staring, but that was probably because of the volume more than the speed. He had loaded his tray with one of everything being offered on the buffet, and a double portion of those things he really liked. Talking had been pretty much limited to 'pass the salt' and the occasional small talk.

Soon he had worked his way through the pile of food so he pushed away his tray and leaned back. Everyone else, all of who had gotten considerably less, were still eating. Oops, major bad manners there. He reached for his coffee cup. He had definitely missed that.

"Well I guess it would be safe to say that you didn't have much to eat on…whatever the name of that place is." McKay finally observed. He was looking a little sick for some reason, and had even pushed away his own tray even though there was still food on it. Including a chocolate pudding. Sheppard leaned forward and reached for it. McKay slapped at his hand obviously without thinking. He raised startled eyes to Sheppard when he realized what he had done. They locked eyes.

Sheppard could almost see the thoughts going through McKay's head. He knew that McKay had known what was going on, and he had still ended up enthralled. He understood enough science to know that there was little that the physicist could do once he was close to Lucius, but he could have made more of an effort to get away, tried harder to not fall under his control. It was unreasonable given that everyone else had done the same he knew, but he felt it more with his friends…there was that word again.

He tore his eyes away from the strangely pleading blue ones and looked around the table. Everyone was still staring so he looked quickly down at his coffee. It didn't look like anyone was going to be the first to talk, so it fell to him. Damn it, he wanted to hold onto his mad for a little longer, righteous anger and all that. Oh well.

"Look," He said finally, speaking to his coffee cup. "I'm not going to say that I'm not pissed at all of you, that I don't think that you should have been able to fight it. I _know_ that it wasn't something that you could fight." He pointed to his head. "I know that here, but here." He pointed to his chest. "Not so much." He took another sip of the coffee, still not looking up.

"It was dark and cold and…" _Suck it up Sheppard_ "and damn lonely, and quite frankly that is all I want to say about it. I don't want to be analyzed and I don't need to be poked and prodded. I am tired and yes, a little hungry. You can only do so much with jerky and seaweed before it gets kind of tedious. I may not be 100 fine, but I am…all right, and if you will all just…leave it alone, I'll…work it out." It was all of the pleading he could do. He would not go any further. He had his pride; they were going to have to live with it. There was silence for a long time broken only by the sounds of the early diners. Sheppard could feel the eyes on him from the new- comers, evidently someone was warning them off since no one approached them at the far table.

Finally Carson cleared his throat.

"I don't know about the others, but I have to say one thing about it and then I'm willing to do as you ask, lad. I have to say, I'm sorry. I brought that…wee basta here, and I am the one that should have known best. The damage I did…" He must have seen how uncomfortable Sheppard was getting and he stopped talking, clearing his throat again. "I do have to insist that you stop by the infirmary however for at the least a scan. You've been gone six months lad, and if you've been eating off the land there could be…issues. I couldn't in good conscious let it go." Sheppard reluctantly nodded. He had suspected that he couldn't get away with that, but he had to try. The silence fell again.

"I have to ask, John, with what we do here, with what we face day in and day out, we have to trust each other. Can you do that again? Can you trust us again?" That was Teyla. Leave it to her to ask the question that was in his own head. Could he trust them? He looked up briefly, still with the staring. He lowered his gaze again and bit his lip.

"I've never been one to hold a grudge…" he started, "well unless it was the Wraith…or Kolya…or Michael." Okay, that wasn't going where he wanted it. Try again Sheppard. "It's not that I stopped trusting you guys. I wouldn't have brought the Gungan here if I didn't trust you…it's just…It's going to take some time for me to…" God, how did he say this?

"It wasn't YOU, Sheppard. We didn't turn on you, we turned on Lucius' enemy, it could have been any one of us if we had been resistant to the …chemical stuff." Ronan said. Sheppard's eyes snapped up and met the dark eyes of the Satedan. How the hell did he know? The other man shrugged as if he had heard the question. "Don't take it personally." Sheppard could only stare at the other man. _Damn_.

He _was_ taking it personally. Of course you could always say that there wasn't any other way to take something, but there it was. He hadn't stopped to think about it in that way. It could have been any one of them, if someone else had been resistant. And there was the truth.

He wasn't pissed because he had been abandoned. He wasn't pissed because he had been left to get his own ass out of trouble. He was pissed because he had thought that it was all about it being _him_. He had taken it personally. He sat back in his chair and threw his head back staring at the ceiling. What an ego! And here he had thought that he hadn't gotten anything from dear old dad except a complex or two. All this time, all this bitterness, was about him, not Lucius, not the _betraya_l, him. Again, damn. He shook his head and rolled his head back down to look at the people sitting around the table. His friends, he looked at his friends.

"Yeah, I can trust you."

Chapter 14-Epilog

Two weeks later Sheppard landed the puddlejumper he had recently piloted under the surface of the bay on the beach near his former home. The darkness still persisted, and the snow was still on the ground. In the co-pilot's seat next to him Kermit was practically vibrating with excitement. He had met them at the third hatchery where they had been working for the last week. McKay had made quick work of repairing the one hatchery that had been working during the last reproduction cycle. It had been a matter of replacing some power crystals and a few conduits. Seeing the joy and wonder on the faces of the Gungan as McKay had reinitiated the program had made it all worth it, though Sheppard wasn't even close to forgiving Lucius his part in it.

McKay had moved on to the second hatchery which had been in worse shape, but after several days of working over the systems almost from the ground up the physicist and his team had managed to get that hatchery running as well. That had engendered an almost giddy joy among the Gungan that had expressed itself in a celebration that had taken two days for everyone to get over. It seemed that the amphibians brewed a potent seaweed beer.

The third hatchery had proven to be the real challenge. A large part of it had been damaged by the tide of rock and dirt from the explosion. After a survey of the hatchery with various engineers and designers, it had been decided that they would have to turn it into a smaller facility that could be used as a back up/over overflow for the other two hatcheries. The Gungan had been disappointed, but were so happy about the other two that it had not lasted long. It had taken most of a week with teams working around the clock with a Gungan team helping out with the manual labor.

It had been a challenge working under water. Using a combination of the puddlejumper shields and scuba gear it had gotten done though, and everyone was pretty much exhausted. The job was made a little easier when it turned out they had not had to hide their presence from the general population. It seemed that Kermit had been doing a bit more talking than anyone knew. He had shared his experience with Sheppard with his friends. They in turn had shared it with their friends, and their families. It turned out that the general populace had been a little more in the know than the council had thought. Typical politicians there, Sheppard had thought.

Now with the last facility online Kermit had demanded a flight, and of course no other pilot would do. After checking with Michigan and his mate, whom Lorne had named Detroit, Sheppard had agreed. They had just gotten back from a quick run around the planet and up into space. Sheppard had thought the young amphibian's eyes were going to pop out of his head when he had first looked down on the planet below. He wished he could have turned off the inertial dampers so that the young being could experience the true joy of flying, but the safety measures of the puddlejumper were reluctant to release, even to him, and he had found that they only did so when he was alone and in a certain mood. In the end it hadn't really mattered, Sheppard was pretty sure that Kermit had maxed out in his excitement just getting to sit in the co-pilot's seat.

He shut down the puddlejumper's systems and opened the back ramp. Lighthill and Michigan were waiting on the beach along with Beckett and Lorne. Beckett had been in the labs back on Atlantis with the Gungan scientists almost around the clock for the last two weeks. He had been trying to counteract some of the congenital defects that had been created by the forced interbreeding of a too small gene pool. It had evidently been a hard process, one that would be ongoing for the foreseeable future. But things were looking up, Beckett was pretty sure that his gene therapy techniques could be used to cure many if not all of the defects, and he thought they could pretty much assure that the next generation would be free of all but the most persistent of them. Evidently the Gungan scientists had made some advances that Beckett had merged with his own research, and everyone was optimistic. The main problem was equipment. There were certain machines that the Gungan could use that the humans had, but retrofitting them to work underwater would be an expensive process, and not one that the SGC could afford. It would make the whole process a lot longer.

Kermit ran down the ramp yelling out in his own language as he approached his father. Lighthill and Michigan smiled down at him as he used his hands and whole body to describe the process. Since Sheppard had already given them a similar ride, though without the barrel rolls and loops, they knew what the younger being had experienced, but tolerated it anyway.

Lorne told Sheppard that they were waiting on McKay who had gone up to the facility saying he wanted to see it once before they left. Sheppard had cleaned it out when they had first come back, taking care of it by himself. He had packed up his stuff, but had left the supplies he had gathered. He figured that the Gungan could use what they wanted, or the stuff could just stay in cold storage in case some other lost soul ended up here, though with the gate working that shouldn't be an issue anymore. As far as he knew no one else had been in it. Why McKay had wanted to see it he didn't know. Prurient curiosity he guessed.

He told Lorne and Beckett that he would fetch McKay and to wait for him there on the beach. He said his goodbyes to Lighthill, Michigan, and Kermit, though he promised to come back when Beckett came again next month. He started up the path, all the cold and lonely days that had come before running through his mind. He would not be sorry to see the gate close on this planet, even if he would kind of miss Kermit's enthusiasm and blatant hero worship and Lighthill's calm and logical mind.

He thought open the door and went in, the lights flaring brighter as he came in. McKay, who had been standing in the middle of the now bare room staring at the wall started and looked up at the lights and then over at Sheppard.

"Oh of course. Yet another Ancient facility sits up and begs for your attention. Does it never end?" He complained. Sheppard shrugged and looked around the room.

"What are you doing?" he asked. McKay looked at him as if he were speaking in tongues and gestured at the walls, which were still covered in his formulas.

"You solved it. You _solved_ a millennium problem. Where you going to mention that, or were you just going to sock away the million dollars into your retirement account or say you won the lottery so that no one would be suspicious of this dumb jock-military moron thing you have going on?" he asked. Sheppard looked around the room, his eyes and mind following the formulas as they ran through the sequence he had worked out. His eyes settled on the section where Lighthill had corrected the one part. It had completed the formula; it was as McKay said, solved.

"I uh…didn't really think about it." It was the truth, he hadn't thought about it. He hadn't even realized completely that the significance of it all. It had gotten lost in the whole saving an alien race thing, the going home thing, the being part of Atlantis again thing. When he had packed his stuff he had wanted nothing more than to get it all and leave and he had hardly even glanced at the walls. It had been a way to keep from going nuts, and it had worked. He just hadn't realized how close he was to running out of distraction. It kind of shook him now, that revelation. Maybe he was luckier than he had thought. McKay was staring at him like he was an idiot.

"Do you realize the implications of this? The impact it will have on aerodynamics, on fluid dynamics? The improvement in aeronautical engineering alone will be earth shattering." He reached out and grabbed Sheppard by the shoulders, shaking him. "My God, it's like being there when the wizard gave the scarecrow a brain."

Sheppard knew that McKay was not _trying_ to be insulting about the scarecrow crack; it just came naturally to him. That made it all the more insulting, but who cared. He ran his eyes over the formula again. It really was a thing of beauty, and _he_ had produced it, at least most of it. He thought about the million dollars for a moment, and then looked out the big window toward the bay. He looped an arm around McKay's shoulders and steered the scientist toward the door.

"Say Rodney." He said with a smile, drawling the name out in the manner he knew annoyed the physicist enormously. "Just how expensive would that retrofit on the machines Beckett's been talking about be?" He asked. It only seemed fair to share the wealth; after all, he already had everything _he _wanted.

The End.

Author's note: The millennium problem that Sheppard worked on does exist, as does the prize that was offered for the solution. I am not sure if the problem has been solved. I have to admit that my college math courses never prepared me for understanding even a bit of the problem as it was presented. Any errors are completely my own, and good luck to those who are actually working on it.


End file.
